


A FATHER'S FEAR.

by bledstars



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Eventual Claude/Byleth, Family Relationships - Freeform, Gen, Jeralt was a great father and you can't take that away from me., Post Sitri's death, even though i love the name Sitri...I already startedt his fic before the DLC., sort of kind of am keeping my name for Byleth's mother.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22983562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bledstars/pseuds/bledstars
Summary: AKA: Five Times Jeralt almost lost Byleth and the one time he did.CURRENTLY ON HIATUS.
Relationships: Byleth/Mercenary, Jeralt Reus Eisner & My Unit | Byleth, Jeralt Reus Eisner/Sitri Eisner | Byleth's Mother, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 83





	1. A TERRIBLE FEVER.

Jeralt didn’t even realize his own child was sick until she collapsed on the outskirts of the village that they were staying at. He had been training her to wield a sword. And as she was traveling with a band of mercenaries, he thought it was the best way to hide his daughter within the group. He should have caught on earlier than he did. He should have seen the signs, she was slower than she normally was, as if the sword was heavier than what was she was used to. She had been learning to handle an iron sword, an ambitious goal for someone so young, but his daughter had picked up the blade quickly. He should have noticed from the way she couldn’t defend himself, but he just assumed she was tired from all the traveling. He should have noticed the redness in her cheeks as she tried to catch her breath. He should have caught on before she collapsed forward, throwing aside the blade so fast, as he caught the young girl in his arms. 

The mage within his mercenaries was collecting herbs to create some potions for their trip had quickly dropped their things and dashed up to the young girl. While her age was always a mystery to everyone around them, she could not have been older than seven. His young child had collapsed in the middle of the field.

He thought it was just a sore throat. Something he assumed was due to the dry weather from crossing the desert, he made sure to that she drank enough water. But Byleth continued to cough and cough. He should have noticed the signs, but instead, he was blind to his daughter's need. He should have been better at this. He should have been more aware. And he was blaming himself as he quickly scooped up his child and took her to the inn they were staying at. Just because she didn't express her pain or emotions, didn't mean that they weren't there. He should have been quicker to notice that she was sick. What sort of father lets their child faint in the fields because of his blindness. His wife wouldn't have allowed this to happen. His wife would have seen the symptoms. His wife would have been there before it got this bad. But his wife wasn't here--and he was failing her in protecting their child.

Bringing her into the inn that they were staying at, the mage realized that the white faith magic he was performing was doing nothing to bring down the young girl’s fever. Barely conscious, she didn’t even whimper in pain, she was just so still. A part of him wondered if his only child, the last part of Lily was gone forever. So, he stayed by her side, putting a cold towel on top of her forehead, making sure she ate some porridge with herbs and crushed up flowers that would help bring the fever down. All he could do was helplessly hope that the fever would break and not a single sound indicating that she was in pain. 

“Don’t go…” He whispered quietly as he looked down at the small child. He kidnapped his own child, away from the church, away from Rhea, away from a life to being safe. He put her into he shoes of a mercenary, teaching her how to wield a sword and he couldn’t help but wonder if he made the correct choice.

What would her life have been like if he stayed? What if his gut instincts were off? HIs wife was not a normal woman, so what would make his daughter one as well? 

He wondered if maybe it would have truly been better for Byleth if she was left in the church. Would she have grown up with those nobles and commoners that were lucky enough to get entrance to the officer’s academy? Maybe she would have made friends with people her age rather than soldiers far older that looked at her like she was a liability. Would she have been able to learn white magic and be like her mother? Would she have been safe from harm?

Did he make the correct choice in setting that fire and having one of his most trusted men, desert the knights to take his newborn child out of the church, out of town, and into Alliance territory before word got out that the child was missing. Did his wife approve of the choices he made? 

Holding her tiny hand in his, he pressed it against his forehead and whispered out prayers that he remembered Lily had said when he got injured or sick 

He was never a religious man, but he began to pray to the goddess. To not take away his daughter, that he would be more careful, more observant of even the smallest change in her expression. That he would devote his life to protecting his young child even more than he already did. That he would—

“Papa?” A voice croaked out and his head snapped up to see the blue eyes of his daughter that he were closed for so many nights. 

“You must have been quite tired to sleep for this long.” He whispered, uncaring for the tears of relief that fell down his cheeks.“You know it’s not healthy to nap too long, was your dream that nice?” 

“I saw a woman.” her voice was barely there as he sat her up and handed her glass of water. “She had long hair with a lily in it and let me lay on her lap….She was so warm. She played with my hair and told me how big I’ve gotten but I don’t remember ever meeting her before. She told me how much she missed me. When I asked her if she wanted me to stay with her cause she looked so lonely—but she said no. And she had the saddest smile, the sort of smile that I never wanted to see on her. And as she hugged me, I could feel her crying. She said as much as she would like for me to be with her, she knew that you would be sad. And I don’t want you to be sad and neither does she. So, she told me to wake up and stop being a stubborn sleepy head. “ A pause as she stared at her hands, and Jeralt noticed how much older his daughter looked. Her eyes had a layer of wisdom that he only saw those even older than he was. Eyes that saw too much, experienced too much, and yet were to all hers. Her eyes were like her mother, wise beyond her years, always observing and carefully watching everyone around her.“She was my mother, wasn’t she?” 

He had no doubt that it was his wife listening to his prayer. He never believed in the goddess but he always believed in her. Of course, even after passing on, she would always be watching over her daughter. “I’ll get you some soup and maybe we can talk about your mother tonight, would you like that, kid?” 

“I think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that we got Byleth's mother's name in the DLC And I love the name Sitri. But I stand by the name Lilith/Lily too...so You know what? Her mother's Maiden Name is going to be Sitri in my book so it'll be Lilith Sitri. Okay? Okay.


	2. HIS BROTHER IN LAW

Byleth had gotten injured in battle, not too bad, but still enough that Jeralt didn’t feel comfortable taking her along to the Alliance for a mission that he had accepted. It would take at least a few weeks to get to the new noble’s house, and from their place in the Empire, it would be closer to go to Dagda. So, while he told his men to start their journey to the Alliance territory, he took a little detour to leave his young child with his wife’s family. It was a secret that the daughter of Lily was still alive, a secret that he would hold onto until the day he died.

He would not have his daughter become a pawn of the church like his wife was. That was what he decided when he held the sleeping infant in his arm when the doctor told him about the lack of heartbeat. Rhea had done something. He did not trust Rhea, not after everything. His wife had even wanted to leave the church. Someone that only knew the church to believe that something sinister lurked in the shadows, he had trust in what his wife would have wanted. And what his wife wanted was not to have their child to grow up within the church walls. 

And his in-laws agreed, and while he thought that they would have fought to have the young girl with them in Dagda, they also agreed that leaving Byleth in their care for good would have been dangerous. They understood that the church had eyes everywhere. It would better for Byleth to travel with her father, to be protected by never staying in one place for too long. And just like what Lily wanted, Byleth would see the world, something she never got the chance to do for much of her life. 

But that didn’t mean that they didn’t miss her. That they didn’t look forward to their visits. And even more so, that they didn’t want to be part of her life. While Dagda was their homeland, they moved to the small Village on the coast of the Empire for work and to help keep the origin of Byleth’s mother a secret. To the rest of the world, Byleth was born to an unknown woman from the Empire, not a nun that formally from Dagda. 

The young girl, no older than twelve was riding with him on his horse as they approached the humble farm house. Lily’s mother, Eden, was outside gardening,her hair a dark grey as she grew older. But the older woman was still in good health, putting a few peppers into the basket that was at her feet. 

“We’re here.” He announced as he hopped off the horse and helped Byleth down. The older woman had quickly turned around, her features getting soft as she saw the young girl approach her with a bundle of wildflowers in her hands. 

“Hello there,my lovely girl.” Approaching her granddaughter, looking more like her own daughter as the years went by. Byleth was the splitting image of her mother when she was younger. Tucking a piece of her dark blue hair, a family trait from Dagda, behind her ear. “Those are lovely. My favorite to be exact. Thank you, my dear. ” 

“Is that the little demon, herself?” A voice called out, and while most would have been concerned in regard to the nickname. The voice was warm, full of love and familiar. Turning around, the corners of the usually expressionless eyes softened as she saw the approaching man.

“Uncle Gabriel.” And with that, she earned a tussle of her hair before he picked her up and put her around, hugging his young niece tightly as she came back to their home. 

“Jeralt.” An older man said as he exited the house and shook the blonde man’s hand. “I see that you are looking well.” 

“Hello, Daniel. Yes, and thank you again for taking in Byleth. I would take her, but she’s still healing and—It’s a long journey and I know that there is a small school here that she’d be able to learn from and I thought she should try to attend a proper school even if it’s for a short while. I can only teach her so much.”  


“You don’t ever have to think twice about it. She’s our family. She’s my granddaughter. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The old man said as he looked at his son tossed the young girl up into the air. And while most children would have squealed for joy or fear, Byleth just had a small tug on her lips as she let her uncle spin her around. But everyone knew that she was enjoying herself as her uncle set her down. 

“Stay for dinner.” His mother in law said with a soft voice as she picked up the basket full of fresh vegetables and herbs. “It’s been a while since we were all home, and I know that Gabriel is also leaving for Dagda tomorrow. We may as well have a proper family dinner.” 

And what a family dinner it was, with a huge grilled fish that had been steaming for hours next to the fresh vegetables that were prepped for numerous side dishes.Byleth’s grandfather began putting some mashed potatoes onto Byleth’s plate along with some grilled vegetables. The young girl ate pieces of fish that her grandmother had placed on top of her rice. If anyone looked through the window, they would have thought this to be a normal civilian family. Not a family that still had an empty chair at the table for someone that could never join them for dinner again.

“You all remember Nahara, right?” Gabriel started as took another bite of the food. 

“The young woman who bested you in a mock battle, yes. I remember that quite fondly.”Jeralt said with a small smile as he took a sip of wine.

“Ha.Ha.” Gabriel rolled his eyes before shaking his head. “Well, yes. She did, but she also has a little sister named Shamir. She wants to be my apprentice and to be honest, she’s far better than her sister. And she’s barely older than little Byleth here. A sharper aim, faster on her feet. I don’t know what to teach her so I might just teach her how to use a lance properly. Since her family is mainly archers, I thought that learning a different weapon might be the best thing to teach her.” 

“That sounds wonderful, dear. I’m sure you will make many fond memories with Shamir and knowing her family, they’d be happy to have you as their teacher.” 

“You never taught me the lance, Uncle Gabriel.” A mouth full of food before she took spoonful of potatoes in her mouth. Her grandmother reprimanding her softly for her lack of table manners but the smile on the older woman’s lips was just happy that the young girl had a healthy appetite.

“Well, little demon, if you want me to teach you, maybe you should come to Dagda with me. I mean if anything you’d pass for my daughter far better than you’d pass for your old man’s. We’ve got the same hair and the same resting bit—” 

“Gabriel, language.” Jeralt said with a warning tone as he glared at the blue haired man. It was true, it was also something he even considered. They had the conversation before with his wife’s family. Thinking that if they wanted to properly hide Byleth, that she should be with some that look like her more. That way it was less strange for a Jeralt to be tugging around a small blue haired child. But as the months progressed, they realized that it was only around Jeralt that Byleth showed even an ounce of emotion and to be honest, Jeralt was not fond of abandoning his only child with anyone, not even his own family. Call him a selfish man, but he didn’t want to lose the last bit of Lily. The symbol of his love with his wife breathing and in front of him. 

“What? Come on, I’m sure she’s heard far worse words with you and your men. And she does look like me! And Dagda is goes far beyond the reach of the church. I’m just saying, it’s not a bad idea. And she could still learn to fight, still see the world. And you would be able to—” 

“I promised mama that I would stay with papa.” Byleth voiced quietly and now all of the family members turned to look at the young child who was picking at her potatoes. “I promised her that I would make sure he ate properly and didn’t overwork himself. I promised her that I’d make sure that he didn’t drink too much and if he did, to always pay the tab so he doesn’t get in trouble.” 

There was a silence at the table. There was no way that Byleth could have heard those words from Lily. Not when they had lost her before Byleth’s could even take her first breath. There was a silence as the young girl stared at her food, wondering if she had said something wrong. If she should have just kept the words to herself. 

“Your mother? You never told us you got to spoke to your mother before.” Her grandfather repeated quietly, wondering what sort of conversations the spirit of his daughter had with his granddaughter. A quiet reassurance as she put his hand over hers and gave her a gentle smile. “What else did she say?” 

There was a nervous silence before Byleth took another quick bite of her food. “That Uncle Gabriel is a stubborn and will dive head first into danger if that meant that he could save someone. And I don’t want him to do that for me.” There was a booming laugh from her grandparents as they could picture Lily now. Her arms crossed, brow furrowed as she explained to her with an almost stubborn expression about how the never ending stories of her brave but stupid brother. 

“Your mom was always a busybody.” Gabriel mumbled quietly before pouring himself another glass of wine. “But she was never wrong. She always had her heart in the right place, so I suppose I only get stuck with visits from my favorite niece.” 

“I’m your only niece, Uncle Gabriel.” And that brought a laugh from the rest of the people at the table as the blue haired girl chewed at a piece of broccoli. 

“You really are my niece.” he mumbled at the monotonous comeback that hit all the right notes before sighing dramatically and leaning his head back. “Okay. God. I hope my future kid is like you. Sharp in all the best ways but also soft when it the time is right. You’re going to be just as charming as your mother. ” And with that the rest of the dinner was filled with smiles and retelling of stories about Lilith. From when she was a child and was quick to learn white magic in order to help Gabriel and his numerous injuries. 

“Thanks kid.” Jeralt said as he ruffled her hair and softly smiled at his daughter. Sayin his final goodbyes before he left on the road. He knew that he'd have to leave at nightfall, but this was harder than he imagined. To leave her behind for such a long time. It didn't sit well with him. “I’ll only be gone for few months. And while I know that you don’t like going to normal school, try your best to make a few friends. And If you can’t—WellI left some training weapons with your grandfather.” 

“Just come back.” She said in a soft voice as she drew in the notebook her uncle had gotten her. Terrible art skills, that was what he noted but none the less, it was nice to see his daughter doing something normal and not just swinging a sword. 

“I will kid. Time will fly really fast. I promise you.” There was a softness in Jeralt’s voice as he looked at his daughter before getting up from his seat and out the door. He had then seen Gabriel petting Jeralt’s horse, waiting for the mercenary.“Gabriel. I thought you would have left already.” 

“I plan on leaving tomorrow. I want to spend another day with my little niece. I want to be able to take her to the school personally. Make sure all will be well here before I leave.”

“How long will you be gone for?” Jeralt asked as he put the pack on onto the back of the horseand tied the weapons to the side of the saddle. 

“Only a week at most. You know—When you first asked me, us, about taking Byleth in. We had just lost Lilith.” There it was, he knew that conversation from dinner would continue between them. Away from the prying ears of his daughter and in-laws. “We didn’t think that taking the little girl away from you…would be fair. But she’s getting older. The church—they do have eyes everywhere. And sometimes I fear that one they’ll catch up to you. That they’ll drag you and Byleth back into their grasp.” 

“I know—“A man of few words, he knew the fear that they all held. That those that would look to harm his little girl, whether that be from the church or from those that his wife thought were watching her. In the shadows, in the dark, waiting for her to be vulnerable, they’d be after his daughter too. And the scariest part of it all, was that he didn’t know who he should fear more. The church he had owed a life favor to but had terrible secrets that might have harmed his wife and daughter. Or some unknown force that seemed to always be lurking, slithering,waiting to strike like a snake. “But I just can’t—she’s Lilith’s…she’s my daughter.” 

“And we would never want to seperate the two of you. I’m pretty sure Lilith would come back from the grave and have my head if I did. I just get worried and you knew that if I go into town with Byleth in hand, no one would question that she’s my daughter. That she could go unknown for far longer and I wish I thought of this before all of this, that when it all happened that I was rational enough to think this way but—“

“She’s my kid though.” Jeralt finally said, a quiet stubbornness. He couldn’t lose Byleth. Not his little girl, not his kid, not her. He couldn’t lose her because if he did, he’d have no one in this long life. He’d be alone and while he could always visit Byleth, he couldn’t fulfill the dream and life that he wanted with Lilith. He was doing it alone, but at least he was doing it. Her first steps, her first word, her first time wielding a sword. All things he wanted to be the one to see, to experience, to have memories of. “She’s still my kid. Even if I barely look at her, she’s my kid. And I can’t lose that. I won’t lose that.” 

“I understand. i just—the offer is on the table. That’s all. If you want me to pretend, I am more than happy to. It’s just a plan b…or c….or plan d.I just—I want to be here for you.” 

“Thank you Gabriel. That—I’ll remember that. And if anything does happen to me. I know that you all would protect Byleth with everything you have.” 

“Don’t say those kinds of things Jeralt. The girl needs her father. And like you said, she’s your daughter.” 

“Papa.” A small voice as he was about to get on the horse voiced and a surprised Gabriel jumped.to the side to reveal the young blue haired girl. A whispered, ‘shit I didn’t even hear her approach at all.’ 

“Hey kid. You should head inside it’s cold out here at night.” 

“I know—I just wanted to give you this.” A little picture or an attempt at one, at what he assumed was them. A man with wild hair holding the hand of the little girl with short hair. “It’s a lucky charm. Grandma said that I should make you something.” 

“I’ll keep it safe.” He said with a soft smile before folding and slipping the paper into his chest pocket. “Right here. “He said as he patted the pocket that was over his heart. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll be back before you know it. Now be good to your grandparents and make sure to keep Uncle Gabriel out of trouble.” 

A silent nod with a look of determination. Like she was taking on her first solo mission without her father. 

“That’s my girl.” Jeralt said with a soft smile before patting the top of her head and going up to his full height. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. And have I ever broken a promise?” 

“No.” 

“Right. So don’t give me that look that I will and just be good. Make friends. Make sure not to let your training get rusty.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

A beat of silence as he looked down at the young girl, who barely could show her emotions and yet—there she was looking at him, asking him to come back, to be safe, and that she loved him. And that was enough.

She was his daughter after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I had most of this written long before my mess of a first chapter. I might edit that one a bit. If I have time. But I did want to update this story. I absolutely love writing Byleth and Jeralt's family relationship. And it makes me so happy to know that people are enjoying this as well!
> 
> I do picture this assignment / mission also including the time he met Leonie and helping her village out which is why he had to be alone.


	3. A KIDNAPPING.

He never knew rage like this. He never understood fear like this. He never felt panic like this. It gnawed at his psyche, it stole any compassion and empathy he had. His humanity was stripped as all he felt was the need to get his daughter back. 

It was a raid on the village in they were staying at. A group of bandits that took stole away the children, collecting on debts that could never be paid by the humble villagers who barely had enough to survive. The northern kingdom was cold, and with the loss of their king, in shambles. Which mean that it was the perfect breeding ground for bandits and villainous men who craved nothing more than to fill their own pockets with gold. And the trade for women and children, well there were always wicked men that did not care for anything more than the coins they would get from the evil work. 

And they had taken his daughter. His daughter who had quickly got to her feet to fight and defend the women and children that they were dragging by the hair, using a potion to knock them out. His daughter was no longer the child that small and weak. No, she was now in her teens, fully aware of how to use a blade. What it felt like to take a man’s life, with scars that marked her body, badge of the battles she had won. She had taken to protect the village children, swiftlytaking out her sword to combat the lances and axes. But she was alone, and very much outnumbered, he should have seen it faster, dictated his men to go help her. But he was too distracted in protecting an elderly couple when his daughter was ambushed by several bigger men who knocked her out with a hit to her head. Putting a cloth full of the sleeping potion onto her mouth, they dragged her into the cart, throwing her sword onto the groundbefore riding off. 

He yelled, He screamed. His men had never heard their leader react in such a violent matter as he broke the blade of a bandit that was fighting him, quickly lowering his axe to crush the man’s head, leaving him dying as he chased after the cart that grew smaller and smaller.

“Byleth!” Jeralt’s voice boomed, hoping that she’d wake from her slumber to fight back, to come back to him. But all it did was echo through the frozen wasteland. And all the empty white space turned red as he yelled for his horse.His mercenaries were quick to finish the job of protecting the village and on their feet to ride off to save their youngest member. There was no saving them, not when a father’s anger was riding ahead of them. 

** It was more than rage. **

There was something dark that echoed in his chest, his own heartbeat sounded louder in his ears as he raced forward to save his child. A life of a mercenary meant that there would be scars, would be pain, broken bones, bruises, he knew that. And Byleth had chosen to stay with him despite that life he led. He was angry at himself first and foremost for being a selfish man. A man so desperate to keep a piece of his wife with him. The family they only dreamt of, his perfect little girl that he swore to protect. 

He recalled the first time she got injured on the field. How she sat quietly as the healer piece together her skin from the lance wound. How she looked with not a single expression on her face until she saw her father and how she lowered her head and told him that she was sorry she wasn’t faster. 

How quickly he fell to his knees to touch the wound the wound on her small arm. His child got injured in battle, and even if it was a small wound, it broke his heart. To know she had experienced that sort of pain, to know that she would live with hardened skin and how she would later become accustomed to pain. He never wanted that for her. He wanted her to be happy, to live in a world full of peace, of joy, of goodness. How the skin rose and he knew that this would be the first of many scars that she would wear and how it broke his heart. He had asked her if she did not want to just stay with her grandparents. Or if she wanted to be adopted by a rich lord looking for a ward. He wondered if that would be a better life for her, wondered if that would be a better life for her. A life where she would not be hurt, a life where she could live a peaceful life. 

That was also the first time Byleth got truly angry at him. She glared at her father, without any care if it was disrespectful. She quickly got up from her spot and lowered the sleeve. At that moment his little girl looked so brave, so strong as she put both hands on his cheeks. “You are my papa. I will not leave you.” She said with a determination, a promise that she would not let him just leave her in some home that was without him. 

**It was more than a fear.**

What if he was too late? What if they get far enough that he could not catch up? What if they sell Byleth or find out the church wanted her. The church would be willing to pay for his daughter, he would not put it above Lady Rhea to have agents in the black market, looking for them. What if she woke and did something reckless, as skilled as she was, as strong as she was, these were men that were bigger than her. Stronger than her, more willing to do awful things than her.

And knowing his daughter, she would step in front of a blade if it meant that she could save another child. She would be so quick on her feet to take a stab for someone else’s. A bitter laugh, of all the things to get from her mother, she would take her martyrdom. Or was that him? His heart pumped strong and quick as he drove the horse to it’s limits, he would not lose her. He could not lose her. 

The fear he felt was a monster that gnawed and ate at his logical reasoning, that told him that he would lose the most important thing in his life. That told him that he was weak, foolish, and that all of this was his own fault. If he hadn’t chosen the life of a mercenary, then his daughter would not be on the road with him constantly. Maybe he had made the first mistake when he set fire and stole his daughter away in the dead of night. To make it seem like she died in the fires, with Rhea’s screams echoing in the distant as he vanished into the night. 

Maybe this was his punishment, maybe this was what the goddess wanted. To take away everything from him after he turned his back to the church. For his sin he would lose the one good thing he had in his life. He would never get to see his daughter as she woke up from slumber, eyes crusty , slowly rubbing her eyes. In those moments she looked most like a child, with her sleepy gaze and messy hair. She looked like any other child. Not one that was on the run, not one that lived a life of a mercenary, not one that had no heartbeat. Just a child. Because at the end of the day, Byleth was just a child, his child, and he had lost her. 

If he lost his daughter, he would lose all reason to live. He knew that too easily his life would lose all light, all meaning, all hope. If he lost his daughter, there was no reason for him to continue on. He lost the love of his life, his smile, his happiness, but she had gifted him with their child, a product of their love. And his daughter became everything to him, everything he could ever want, everything he could ever hope for. Before he was Jeralt, the former captain of the Knights of Serios. Before he was Jeralt the bladebreaker. He was Jeralt, Bylteth’s father. 

Knuckles white as he tightened his grip as he pulled the horse to a halt. He was now in the middle of a path that forked into three. The snowstorm that was raging on had covered the tracks and now he was staring into an empty path. The fear that ran through his veins echoed loudly as he stared at the empty paths before him. Where was his daughter? If he chose incorrectly, he would lose his daughter forever. He could feel it in his guts that if he made the wrong choice, he would never see her again. 

“Captain!” Turning his head he saw a man riding down from his wyvern and nodding his head. One of his newest recruits, Nikolai, a boy with messy red hair and hazel eyes that was the son of pirates that wanted to sail the skies rather than the seas. “I saw them fork to the left. They are headed to the ports there, we must get there before they board a ship!” 

Nodding, he quickly kicked his horse into going forward as he whipped through the forest. He could hear Nikolai guide the rest of his mercenaries to follow their leader through the forest. Jeralt knew the moment that he found them, that he would be quick in getting Byleth back before killing the men that took her away. He would not be kind either, he would make them understand what true fear was, to know what it was like to know their lives would come to an end. He did not care for the world if his daughter was not safe. He would leave it burned and scotched, he would take his punishment from the goddess, herself if it meant that his daughter was safe. 

**It was more than a panic.**

His horse stopped quickly as he saw the scene before him. The white snow was tainted with red. It was dead quiet, the only sounds coming from the hooves of the horse he road. There was the smell of iron and blood surrounding him as he saw the cart flipped over, the children and women quivering in fear and covering their ears and eyes from the scene on the other side. He heard some whisper _demon_ , other whisper prayers, praising and thanking the goddess. 

There had been at least ten bandits that stole them away, some on their own horses, three on the cart, taking care of the latest victims of their raid.But there they lay dead on the ground, all with varying degrees of death. Some were drowning in their own blood, choking on it as their necks were slit open, gasping for air as their eyes were wide, full of a fear he could not pinpoint. Some on fire as they could not even scream for help as they burned to ash. Others looked like they were burned alive, nothing but black bodies that had no life in them as they fell to ashes on the ground. 

In the middle of it all, covered in blood, her dagger in the neck of the last bandit, her eyes never leaving his as she took his life, was his child. One hand glowing with a fire magic he did not know she knew, but what frightened him the most, what brought panic to him, were her eyes. They were not a deep blue, but rather a bright green, a green that was unmistakably like some of the paintings of Serios. There was a power in them that he did not recognize, like she was possessed. She pushed the man onto the ground with her feet, watching the way he asked for forgiveness, for mercy, and with her hand rising to burn his dying body, Jeralt could not watch any more. 

“Byleth.”His voice had no strength as he got off the horse and walked to his daughter. The daughter who looked more mythical than he ever wanted her to be. He did not know what Rhea did to his daughter, but this looked like what the head of the church wanted. His daughter did not look human, she looked like a weapon. “Byleth!” Trying to snap his daughter out of his trance and as she whipped her head to look at her father, her eyes still glowing, bright and inhuman. 

“Papa.” She whispered quietly before her eyes returned to the dark blue shade of the Sitri family, like his wife’s, his in law’s. Hands falling as she falling to her side before she began swaying and collapsing into her father’s opened arms as he quickly ran to catch his daughter. “Papa...my hands...they hurt.” He could see the opened wounds, the slight burn marks of someone not accustomed to using magic. 

Taking a handful of some of the cleaner snow, he put them into her palms and held his daughter tightly in his arms. “We will get you better. Don’t worry, kid. I’ll have one of our mages look at your hands, I’ll have them help you to...”The green flames that he saw that quickly shifted to red and black, the magic that he saw, it was unlike anything he saw on the battlefield. “They will help you not hurt yourself with magic.” He knew better than to have her hide the magic that she apparently had, it would only hurt her in the long run, it was better for her to learn to control it, to learn get used to it. But that was a conversation for another time. 

Right now, he had his daughter in his arms, he had his daughter with her blue hair and blue eyes safe in his arms. Unharmed by greedy and evil men that do wicked things. His daughter who had fallen asleep in his arms from exhaustion. Stroking his daughter’s hair, he held her tightly and looked at the man that looked at his daughter like she was a demon rising from hell. He glared at the dying man, not caring for his call for help, not caring for the way he looked at his daughter. He should just consider himself lucky that Jeralt didn’t have a chance to kill him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! My twitter is @bledstars so talk to me over there if you'd like!


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